REUNION

Had I known corridor would be that busy

During significant time of my study

I should have rehearse more on my accuracy

Before going to classroom fifty two that day

Relief was in me as I saw familiar face

Our ten o’clock class is like a reunion

Reunion of friends and emotions is what I trace

Hoping I can portray it using a crayon

Or sketch it with Da Vinci’s hairy stick

When suddenly a man older than us walks in

He who speaks authority no one should break

He who acknowledge essence of time discipline 

WAITING POINT

She is riding on the same route

She is in haste to catch up with time

Speed up; slow down no need to be rude

Drivers knew where they’ll be stuck

She knew it exactly like the other days

Hands on stirring wheel, foot on brakes

Sixteen miles ahead she awaits a post

A leaning post of three shining colors

A hand pointing opposite her direction

It is everybody’s way of giving

It is everybody’s waiting point

A part of human system

A way to keep her world going

DISCOVERY OF A CIGARETTE VENDOR

The right hand threw the empty cup, a cup where he enjoyed summer’s refreshment a while ago. But the cup did not rolled far from him the reason why he kicked it like a soccer ball. The empty cup reached to the cigarette vendor. At first, the man in his middle age ignored it but after he entertained a customer he picked it up. His left hand turned it around. He inspected it like a scientist that had discovered a new specimen.

MY FIRST VIVA!

Yesterday, January 19, 2014 I acted like a kid. Yesterday I had fun. The nation celebrated the feast of Senior Santo Niño. Yesterday we shout, VIVA! VIVA SENIOR STO. NIÑO! It was my first VIVA. Lucky for me, our parish patron saint is Senior Santo Niño de Praga.

MY PENCIL

My pencil does not fit for duplication

It cannot lead itself to its destination

It cannot stand in neither curve paths nor straight paths

All day in my blank paper it will just sat

                        

But, when I think of telling sweet memories

It will sharpen itself even to never meant stories

And when it feels that I am out of question

It will dance with the tune of inspiration

When it breaks, it can be at ease with strangers

Without a shame it will lead a sharpener

Unconsciously, it will get a pinch of lead

Which help me do the curves and straights of shades